


(Prelude to) Mr. MACUSA, Everyone

by Hacereadsenochian (Grannahreadsenochian)



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Grindlwald (mentioned), Legilimency, Occlumency, Piquery (mentioned), Reader Insert, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 11:17:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10638750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grannahreadsenochian/pseuds/Hacereadsenochian
Summary: Introduction to "Mr. MACUSA, Everyone", which will cover Grave's return to MACUSA and his recovery (Somewhat). This Prelude serves as a backstory for the events leading up to chapter one of "Mr. MACUSA". Two chapters cause for an intro it's fecking LONG. Also, not beta read or even edited in the slightest. Be gentle :)





	1. Chapter 1

Technically you were the head of the search committee. It was referred to as a search committee because no one was certain there would be anything to rescue of Mr. Percival Graves. This knowledge added a certain urgency to the mission, and as such Piquery had wasted no time in pulling you out of your last position and throwing you right into the hunt. It made sense- years ago you worked with the Man.You were the closest thing he’d ever had to a partner. But you had only so much patience for the man, and a dynamic duo split and became two skilled Aurors going their own ways. 

Technically you were part of the search party, but in reality you knew that if there was anything left of Percival, you wouldn’t be the ones finding him. Your years as an auror had had you up close and personal with the many mobs ruling the streets. You knew that once the news about Grindelwald spread- and face it, it would spread, it already had somewhat- once the news had fully circulated the streets, every gang member and white trash and every criminal would be looking for Mr. Macusa, or rather, any of the many rewards the underworld had on his head. 

If anyone knew of your suspicions, they might ask why you thought Graves was in New York. Grindelwald had haunts all over the country- three different teams of Aurors had discovered seven hideouts between them in not even a week. They were tearing down walls and kicking in doors left and right, filling up MACUSA’s cells with the dark wizard’s followers like no one’s business. Not to mention Graves had gone missing somewhere in Europe, is what everyone thought. 

But you knew better. It was like a sixth sense with you- you always just  _ knew _ things. It’d always been that way, as long as you could remember. You knew what was gonna happen before the Bailey Brothers broke out of prison, you knew when J. Barker supposedly “went missing”, and when that crazy witch Kate Barker planned to break into the top secret vaults. Countless times you could pin down a crime and watch it happen. Countless times you’d hunt them down, and nine times out of ten they were right under your noses, in the crud and slime of the New York underworld. Percival Graves case was no different. One might think there were no more places to hide a Wizard in the city, not with the whole city on red alert. Not with all the take-downs that were happening in nearly every pub across the city- it was practically a new bar every night. Yes, MACUSA was taking the new magical threat very seriously. 

But New York was a big city. 

So while everyone else was out there searching for him, wasting their efforts, you were sitting tight, waiting for news to come to you. Patience, more often than not, brought in the reward- not impatience. That’s what you always said. 

“We brought in three new spies this last night,” The Aurors would say, putting a match to their cigarette. 

“Anyone important?” You’d ask, your hand poised over the parchment you were writing on. 

Their answer was always “Naw. Just a few “informants” who can’t remember if Grindy ever told them where he was keeping Graves.”

“So send them off to Long Bay,” you’d say, and resume your writing. “Maybe they’ll remember something on the ride.” Long Bay, FL. was where you were sending most of your convicts. Only prisoners of real importance got to experience the hospitality of one of MACUSA’s cells. 

So they did that, sent the prisoner’s off to florida to become someone else’s problem, not yours, and waited for news that actually meant something. Waited for someone to turn up with news that made them  _ your _ problem. 

Up until this fateful day, you wouldn’t have even considered Graves your problem. 

  
  


Maybe you were getting cocky. It was that sixth sense, you know. When something big was about to happen with the case, you’d know. But in a week and a half you hadn’t gotten anywhere. So- what? What was everyone waiting for? Piquery was expecting progress, and all you had for here was a list of convicts being transferred to Long Bay Prison, states away. 

You were getting heat from the lady, and that was never a good thing. Heat didn’t make you work any faster. Heat didn’t just trigger that sixth sense. Heat caused dissension- got everyone frustrated that everyone else isn’t working faster, better. Heat made stress. 

It was in a moment of heated argument -and these moments were becoming more and more frequent- that something big finally happened. 

You were standing in your office, hands on your hips, going back and forth with Esther, the eldest Graves. She had taken on the duties of her brother’s position, and while she was doing alright as the Director of Magical Security, she wasn’t making any friends among the investigators. Maybe everyone’s distaste with her came from her constant poking her nose into everyone’s business. It was in these moments of conflict that everyone began to think that Mr. Graves wasn’t so bad after all, and they started to miss him. Of course they were allowing the situation to cloud their memory of the man. But even you were beginning to think you’d rather have him back than his sister- then you could go back to your job in DC and have nothing to do with the Graves family. 

You’d asked to speak to Esther in your office because something she said just struck a chord with you and you knew your “speaking” was about to become “yelling” and you didn’t want to yell at the Director in front of your Aurors. It wasn’t that you were shy about standing up to the bigwigs, and putting your foot down when they got to pushy. You just didn’t want to do it in front of your subordinates. It had to do with protecting the Director’s dignity, you could say. 

But your room had never been soundproofed properly, and the shoddy spell that laced the walls was wearing thin. As such, everyone in the department could hear the muffled noise of the two of you going at it. Through the fogged-glass walls they could see you, jabbing your finger at the Director, leaning over your desk to get right in her face, throwing your hands out exasperatedly. You usually prided yourself on being cool and professional, but this was an exception, as anyone could see. 

No one could hear what you were arguing about exactly, only that it didn’t really go in either of your favor. 

The door swung open and Esther stood half in and half out, looking back at you. “

“It doesn’t matter what you or I think,” she could be heard saying. “Only what the President says.” Then she did a once over of the room. Every head was turned on her, every face having an expression of guilt that revealed at once that all had been eavesdropping. With a shake of her head, she stalked out of the room. 

Every head was now focused on you. 

You stood in your doorway, hands on your hips. You gave a heavy sigh and rubbed a hand down the side of your face. 

“Get back to work.” You said tiredly. Then you stepped back into the office, shutting the door behind you. You put both hands on your desk and just stood, staring down at the black wood. 


	2. Chapter 2

After a few minutes there was a timid knock.

“That woman you wanted to see is here,” said Lizzy Lewis, a young girl Piquery had assigned to be your “assistant”. The President knew how you were with keeping track of appointments. You didn’t like them. Didn’t like to schedule them, keep them, or deal with them at all. If something needs your attention, you take care of it when you need it, that was always what you said.

“The legilimen?”

Lizzy nodded. “Miss Tina. No- Miss...” Lizzy paused, clearly struggling to remember the name.

“Queenie Goldstein,” you said, resisting every urge to roll your eyes. A week as your assistant and this girl had not proven useful, not once.

“Yes, Miss Goldstein ma’am.”

“Lizzy what did I tell you about speaking so quietly?” You asked, turning around with a frown on your face. “I told you to speak up. Don’t be so hushed all the time.”

“She’s right here, sir.” Lizzy whispered. You took a deep breath. Calm. Be calm. Cool and professional.

“Have her come in.”

Into the doorway there stepped another woman, with blond hair and a pink jacket. She had a little purse that she clasped with both hands.

“I can come back another time,” She said in a gentle voice.

“Oh, we just had a surprise visit from the Director is all. There’s no need to cancel, is there ma’am?” Lizzy looked at you.

“No, really. Now is a bad time.” Queenie insisted. She turned to leave.

“Just a moment, Miss Goldstein.” Queenie stopped and you motioned to the chair sitting in front of your desk. “Please, have a seat.” Queenie hesitated a moment before moving over to the chair and sitting down. You didn’t move to your own seat, but leaned against the desk next to Queenie so she had to look up at you. You stood for a moment collecting your thoughts before speaking.

“Thank you for coming, Miss Goldstein,” you finally said.

“Oh it’s no trouble, sir. And please, call me Queenie.”

You nodded briefly.

“As you know we’re in something of a time crunch.”

“Is that why the Director was in such a tizzy earlier? She’s terribly worried about her brother, you do understand.”

“No she’s not,” you said calmly, shaking her head. “She’s worried about what trouble her brother could cause.”

Queenie looked away.

“I guess it doesn’t take a mind-reader to see that.” She finally said, giving a weak smile.

“There are things a good detective can learn just from a conversation with someone.” You said. “But there are some things I can’t do without a mind reader.”

Queenie blushed.

“Is that why I’m here?” She asked quietly, looking up at you. “To just... read someone’s mind and go?”

“No!” You perked up as if you’d forgotten something. “No, that’s not it at all. I wanted to get your professional opinion actually.”

“Oh.” Queenie sat up a little straighter, looking less dejected than before. “That I can give you, no problem.”

“How much do you think Grindelwald knows?” Queenie faltered.

“Knows, sir?”

“In your opinion, how much information do you think a wizard like Grindelwald could get from an Occlumen such as Graves.”

“Gee. That’s a good question...” Queenie breathed.

“You’re well aware of how powerful Graves was, politically speaking,” You explained. “I hate to reduce the situation to this but- well, it is a security risk, to say the least.”

“Oh I understand sir,” Queenie said quickly. “I understand perfectly. Thing is, it’s hard to say ‘cause I’ve always had this trick. Mindreading, I mean. I dunno how it works for people using, well, spells.”

“Think of it this way. Grindelwald is one of the most powerful wizards of our time, if not the most powerful. He bested Graves, a formidable duelist himself, and impersonated him convincingly enough to fool even the President. What kind of mind reading power do you think he has?”

“Well.” Queenie thought for a minute. “He only impersonated Mr. Graves,” she answered simply, as if she’d said so much.

“Yes?” You prodded.

“He only impersonated him,” she repeated. “Didn’t do nothing else. Didn’t even know about the Obscurus, or Tina, or how she even knew the boy. So what does that say about how much he knows?”

Then you got it, and nodded, suddenly relieved.

“He couldn’t have been with Graves for more than a few hours, before he infiltrated MACUSA. He was rushed.”

“He didn’t have nearly enough time to figure out anything really important.” Queenie completed your thought.

“Thank you, Queenie.” You said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.

“Of course sir. I suppose you’ll be needing to get back to important business. I’ll get out of your hair now.” Queenie said sweetly, quickly getting to her feet and smoothing out her coat.

“You’ve been a great help, trust me,” you said. “And from now on, it’s Y/N. I don’t even make my Auror’s call me sir.” You cracked a sly little smile. Queenie paused at the door, clearly touched.

“Of course Y/N,” she said in her sweet little voice, biting back a grin. Then with a bob of her head, she disappeared out the door.

You smiled to yourself and finished gathering up your things. Everything on the desk went into a drawer and you threw your coat on.

“Everyone go home,” you said, leaning out your doorway while adjusting your collar. “Get well rested for tomorrow.”

There was a moment where everyone was frozen, confused. They were being sent home early? Then the moment was broken and it was a mad rush for coats, hats, gloves. A flurry of papers being shoved into briefcases and drawers being slammed shut as everyone pushed towards the door, desperate to get out before you changed your mind.

It was in that madness that you felt it- the omen, if you will. Your sixth sense that apparently you’d been ignoring all day, passing it off as stress about the Director’s visit. But it wasn’t Esther that had been stressing you out. It was your sense. But the warning came a bit late.

 

You weren’t going home early with your Aurors. You were going to see Esther again, to relay to her what you’d learned from Queenie. And then you were going to go see Piquery, and update her, because you knew if you didn’t Esther would convene with her later to talk smack about you behind your back.

You didn’t make it that far.  

You found yourself going up to the main floor. It was mostly emptied by the time you got up there. Only a few offices stayed open later into the night, and most of their workers were, well, working. Not many wizards were walking about the floor.

But something brought you to a great window at the side. The city outside was becoming a nighttime city, dotted with windows and streetlamps and light shining out of storefronts.

A rolling bank of fog caught your attention, then disappeared. You squinted. There it was again, but not fog- a black cloud of smoke, writhing, moving like limbs, with sparks of fire- no, sparks of magic. With a start, you realized what it was. In a split second your hand was clutching your wand.

And then it was gone again. Your eyes searched the city for the obscurus, flitting from windowpane to windowpane. But nothing. In the reflection on the glass, everyone was calmly going about their business. They didn’t seem to even realize there was an obscurus rampaging across the city. But then, neither did anyone _in_ the city. There were no sirens, no screams. Men and women took their time walking down the side of the road, in no hurry to get to cover.

You weren’t scared either, you realized. You had your wand ready but there was no spell on your lips, no cry of warning for the Aurors around you. Your heart was calm, your hands steady. Your eyes were watching, waiting.

So it was a vision then. And the obscurus was gone but… it wasn’t over. There was something else you had to see.

And there it was. A little blue thing flitting around in the windowpane. And then in a moment of stillness, there was a fox, his head tilted, glowing. Looking at you.

A… fox.

Then it’s ears perked up. It dashed up the wall and across the ceiling, glanced back at you, and then disappeared through a doorway.

Still stuck in the vision, a door slammed a few stories above and there was the sound of feet running. Indiscernible words and a general flurry of chaos. And then a whisper, so soft that no one might have said it, a whisper of _Percival Graves_


End file.
